


Something about John

by Herminah



Series: Sherlock is losing it [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Porn With Plot, TJLC | The Johnlock Conspiracy, late night fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2304167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herminah/pseuds/Herminah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sherlock is losing it

**Author's Note:**

> Yes.I wrote this while i was drunk.Please don't hate me and just enjoy reading :)

A new day was rising for London, specifically for 221b at Baker street. But not for Sherlock. Sherlock was an all nighter at this moment, basically most of his moments but that's not what i'm gonna talk about. I have something far interesting to share with you. 

Sherlock was sitting on his armchair, thinking over the cases he and John had been through. Eyes closed, slow breathing and hands under his chin, basically, mind palace mode. John...John was his doctor, his blogger and above all his friend.  _'Friend'_ , the definition of a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard. Sherlock was thinking a lot about John.  **A LOT**.

His flatmate occasionally was walking around with his adorable jumper, jeans and socks, getting comfortable with the enviroment around him. Reading the newspaper, or a book, or watching telly. Not giving a damn about the world. He was home. No matter what that meant. He was with Sherlock.

A consulting detective who was solving murders for his enjoyment and job, but John was there for him. He was there when Sherlock was having a 'happy' heart attack over a large doze of decapitated heads. He was there whenever Sherlock was bored and he was finding a way to make him feel alive. Why was so hard for Sherlock to think about John? Not just think about him in general...just...think. Actually he was a mystery for him. Not to mention his feelings about him...Oh Sherlock...You are so in love with John. You have so much to give him and yet nothing.

John didn't know about Sherlocks feelings. He sometimes noticed some stuff going on around, but didn't talk about it, he thought it was the heat of the moment. Little did he know. Poor Sherlock. Small Sherlock when it came to feelings. He thought feeling was something that would come and go. Like cases, like murders whose point was to Spray.Wipe.Finish. With no attachment most of the time, with no thinking as to why doing it. People don't stop and just think.

That was the problem for Sherlock. He stopped to 'really' think about John, but he couldn't find what was that made John, still, stay with him. Sure Sherlock was brilliant and a master mind but it wasn't that. There was something else, something that made John stay. Made him ignore people saying that his flatmate was a psychopath with murder isues.

'No' Sherlock thought.it wasn't that....


	2. John is losing it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Watson

John was coming home, with one hand holding two shoping paper bags, one hand full with plastic bags and his phone between his teeth. He was so angry, he could easily break the glass on the phone and chew it without thinking of getting injured or poisoned.

The source of this hell he was having was that the automatic cash machine didn't accept his credit card and he had to wait in line, with other 20 people in front of him and 15 other behind him. The world around him was burning, babies were crying, eldery people were arguing if they forgotten the eggs they were suppose to get, a woman was cursing another woman of getting the last piece of flower pot. It was a complete mess and it's days like this, John was thinking to drop everything on the floor, get his gun out and start shooting warning shots to shut everyone up.

'Be patient John. Three more people and it's your turn to get the hell out of this nightmare.' John said to himself to calm down.

John was not an easily getting angry man.He was reasonable and patient.It was one of the reasons he became a doctor, not only for the army. He caught himself watching Sherlock breaking things and shouting over some stuff, laughing and nodding that he was right. He liked Sherlock. Hell, he was his saviour most of the time. And things like that are those who made him feel grateful for what he had despite the murders, the chase and the fuss.

He was well and he was alive thanks to Sherlock. His fellings for the detective were still uncertain and unexplainable. You can't just wake up one day and say "good morning world!The gay is saluting you!" Thinking about your sexuality needs time, reasurance. He had the support, Mrs.Hudson often would make him feel like she was talking to her girl friend about colours and fabrics. She would be fine with it. As for family, well we all know about his sister...

His fear above all was one. Sherlock. That man. That boy with the eyes of a saint and the body of the devil. How could he ever believe that he had a chance with him? 'No way'. John was thinking that for Sherlock, he was something like the solar system, not even bothering talking about it, not to mention that he doesn't even keeping it in his brain. 

For Sherlock, John thought he was a friend, a partner in "solving"crime and a flatmate. Nothing less, and certainly nothing more. That's why John wasn't thinking a lot about it. He was getting sad and depressed.

My dear boy, you have no idea...


	3. Awkward timing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same as the chapter title

On the way home, his phone rang and it was Mrs.Hudson, asking him if he forgotten the tea bags she ordered. He assured her he didn't, hang up and placed the phone in his mouth. He got the paper and plastic bags to his hands and carried on his way.

When he finally arrived, he opened the door but that was it, only once he had the strength to do it so, walked up the stairs and knocked his head on the door making a loud "THUD". Sherlock opened the door, watched him throwing the bags on the floor, spiting the phone on his hand and as he was taking off his jacket, he collapsed on the floor. Sherlock holded back his laugh and John said while his mouth was numb from the fall.

"Thiiishh ish myy newoo friennnd. Heellooo carpet, hoow lovellly yoou look toodayy."

Sherlock snorted his laugh and asked as he was watching John caressing the carpet and making his finger follow the patterns that were on.

"Can you introduce me to your friend then?"

"Sure! Carpet, this is Sherlock. Sherlock this is carpet."

"Nice to meet you..." there was complete silence and all that was making sound was outside and the clock on the table.

"She's shy...give her some time." John said and Sherlock laid on his back next to him placing his fingers under his chin.

"Oh, our ceiling is white."

"Is it?"

"Yeah...i don't like it. 'Cherry red' would be much better, you know...this is a good thinking spot too."

"That's...that's great."

John said while he turned on his back as well looking at the ceiling with his hands crossed in front of his chest. His eyeballs turned to his right where he saw Sherlocks eyes closed. He breathed out some air and as he was about to talk, his flatmate said.

"I know you're gonna ask if i was ever going to ask how was you day."

"Yup..."

"How was you day John?"

"It was hell Sherlock, thanks for asking."

"By the looks of you, the hell was at the supermarket."

Both turned and their eyes got locked in place.

"Yes, it was. Lots of people, full with complains."

"You did complain as well?"

"No, i didn't-"

"The credit card machine. You had trouble again with it."

"Okay, how did you know ab-"

"I saw you wallet, when you threw your coat on the sofa, it fell half open, seperating your chewed credit card, those were you teeth on it, bitting out the angry, some coupons from previous purchase at the supermarket and a condom from it."

Johns eyes closed making a frowny face searched for the condom with his hand and picked it up, but Sherlock asked.

"I know it's not my buisness but, why were you having a condom in you wallet?" John eyes opened and asked.

"Because i need it and because every man has one, for protection you know."

"Yes, i know but one has when only one is in a relationship."

"Yes 'one' has also when he's not. 'One' never knows when he might need it."

"Fair enough..."

Mrs.Hudson knocked on the door, opened and saw both men on the floor, looking at each other, while John was still holding the condom. She smiled and coughed a little.

"I'm sorry my boys, i'll come back later."

"Why later Mrs.Hudson?"

"Oh, well i see that you're occupied over here so-"

Both looked at the condom and John threw it out of the window while he was standing up. Sherlock stood up as well and fixed his hair, while John was mumbling about the condom and explaining what happened. Mrs.Hudson laughed and winked at the two men. Surprise and also a bit of blush was on their faces once they understood what she thought they might do.

"So, can we help with something???" Sherlock asked to avoid the nervous atmosphere.

"I want my eggs dear."

"Oh! Of course! Here!" John handed the carton with one broken egg.

"I apologise for that. My hands didn't obey me."

"It's fine. I'm off now..."

Both boys waved at her and she closed the door. Air of relief came out of their lungs as they heard Mrs.Hudson saying

"i suggest to continue with the snogging."

  
The air came back to their lungs.


	4. Fucking Anderson!

Early afternoon and the boys were at the Yard, talking about a murder case they solved with Lestrade. Sherlock was leaning on the closed door with his hands under his chin, as usual, and John was standing in front of him next to the desk.

"Guys i can't thank you enough for this. You saved the city once again."

"Honestly Graham, you are talking like we're superheroes..." John turned to face him saying.

"Sherlock, 1st of all, it's Greg and 2nd, i feel a little bit like a superhero. Especially after the bomb incident."

"Yeah, that too! How did you find out where it was?" Sherlock sighed and responded.

"The killer was the head manager of the mall, who after the divorce with his wife, lost his mind. I've seen him every now and then, fully dressed in expensive material of clothing, hair always tidy and his perfume warns you from a mile away. That day he came to the mall with a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, he smelled like old cheese, again from a mile away, his face was sleepless and his reactions were steep. He saw his wife at his office where the bomb was, they had a fight and he-"

The door opened suddenly and pushed Sherlock, making him gasp and tripped over, leaning on top of John who was on the desk. Their bodies were never this close before, not to mention the position they were. The heat from their bodies made Sherlock shiver a little and his hands started tremble from keeping his head up. Johns legs and back were acking from the position and he snarled silently. They looked at each other for a long minute, not saying a word. Sherlock leaned closer and as he was about to close his eyes, Anderson coughed and Lestrade was staring with his eyeballs almost coming out. They realised once again what they were doing and Sherlock shifted up, fixing his coat, leaving John to sit up and massage his back. The atmosphere was far from awkward and Lestrade said slowly.

"I guess we can talk about the case tomorrow..."

"Yes, yes of course. See you around George."

"IT'S GREG!"

"Yeah, that...."

"Bye guys." Said John and both walked outside, leaving the Inspector and Anderson talk about something he wanted.

Inside the cab Sherlock and John were looking out of their windows, not making a sound or a move.They were blushing as hell and they wanted to head back home as fast as they could .Hide from each other. The cab driver stopped and said.

"All right mates, we're here." Sherlock paid the cab and walked outside. John walked out as well, taking the spare change and thanking the cab driver. Sherlock had already opened the door and was taking his scarf off. John said while he closed the door.

"Here's your change."

He raised his palm, full with coins as he was talking off his jacket, and Sherlock leaned his to take them without looking. His fingers touched Johns warm skin and he got goosebumps from the feeling. With the coat and jacket half off they stopped for a minute. Sherlock inhaled deeply and closed his eyes to embrace the touch, John was looking down with his mouth half open but no word came out. Just air, hot air, feeling his flatmates finger brush his skin slowly and making him almost to grab it. Sherlock blinked, took the money and stuffed them in his pocket while he coughed. He walked up the stairs and went straight to his room, closing the door behind him, John was still on the stairs, walking slowly each step. He went to his room and layed on the bed.

"Fucking hell..."


	5. Lights off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk boys, power's off but something is definitely on...

"No, NO John! This is Acid, not bleach, you'll burn our shirts off."

Sherlock said taking the bottle out of Johns hands who was looking surprised and upset.

"Then why in the hell you have these too side by side and in the same looking bottles??"

He turned to show John the label that was on. To be fair it was small and not easy to recognise.

"THIS is the acid and THIS is the bleach."

Sherlock handed him the bottle with the right poison and John walked in to the bathroom to soak his shirts  
because the washing machine was broken...again.

Thanks to his flatmate and the experiment that required parts of it. He took out the shirt he was wearing to put it with the others to their watery death and half closed the door. Sherlock walked to his room and stopped by the door. He turned his head to the side and his fingers pushed the wood a little. The view was hot and wet. John was on his knees in front of the bathtub pushing roughly the clothes in and made small sounds from the presure. The only part that was iluminating Sherlock, was his eyes. The ray of the bathroom light made them silver and more easily dilated spoted. 'Good God he is fit....' Sherlock thought as he saw Johns back bones moving from the pressure. His skin was tanned and his arms were soaking wet above the elbow. He started thinking that If Johns hands were wet till up there, imagine his front... He walked fast to his room, closed the door and sat on his bed, blushing and running his fingers through his hair.

"I should break the washing machine more often..."

 ****************************************************************************************************************************************************

 The power went down on half of London during the replacement of the electric wires. On the flat now, the boys had lighted a few candles they've found but still the light was faint. They were sitting on their armchairs with the fireplace on and Sherlock was playing tunes with his violin. John was reading his book and everything was quiet, except the noices the violin made. Sherlock sighed and placed his violin on the stand that was made for it. He walked a few rounds in the flat and stopped in front of John, looking at him and said.

"John i'm bored." John lifted his head up and asked.

"Go for a walk then, why do you go to saint Barts and decapitate a head?"

He snorted and carried on to read his book. Sherlock walked closely and leaned his head next to Johns. He  
scanned the page of the book and said while he lifted himself up.

"The man dies and the girl as well."

Johns frowned and threw the book behind his armchair sighing and looking at Sherlock.

"Fine!What to you want to do?"

"Hmmmm. How about we do an experiment?"

"There's no power for your intelligent microscope."

"You're right...Then how about chemicals?"

"Again. There's no power and if we spill anything on the floor or the carpet or the table, 1. We will have to go to the hospital and 2. Mrs.Hudson will be furious and believe me, you don't want to listen to her when she gets back from Brighton."

"Huuuuh, right....So, what should we do then?"

John spoted two bottles of whiskey in the cabinet behind Sherlocks armchair and smirked.

"How about we get drunk?"

Sherlock stopped pacing up and down and looked at him. John showed the bottles and he smiled.

 ****************************************************************************************************************************************************

After one and a half bottle and all the games they could play in the faint light, Sherlock stood up and walked, bumping in to every furniture he could find in his way, to the kitchen and for more ice. John was having a smile on his face, actually since the last drop from bottle number 1, and placed his feet and head on each of the arms the chair had and closed his eyes. Sherlock came back with some pieces of ice falling from the bowl and sat down making a big 'PLOF' and woke John up. He looked at him and said.

"John don't....don't go to sleeeeep noooow !We sssstill have haaalf a bottllle to finishhhh."

John laughed and said imitating Sherlocks voice.

"Hahahah!...half a boooottle to fiiinish."

"Hey, don't maaake fun of meee."

"Okay, sssorry. What do you want to do next? We've played chess, operation, scrabble-Ow!"

John grabbed his back and made a frowny face.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah it's just that...my back hurts from the work, the cases and this armchair."

"Of course, it's exhausting, how could you possibly do all that and still be okay physically??"

It was his time to make fun of John and he replied.

"Hey, don't turn this back on me."

"Ok, ok.....Do you want a massage? I'm an expert at this..."

John looked at him, still rubbing his back and locked eyes with him. He thought about it for a minute and said.

"Yeah, ok just let me lie on the sofa to be more comfortable."

**************************************************************************************************************************************************** 

 John laid on the sofa facing the brown leather that covered it on his left cheek and placed his hand to the sides of his body.

"You know John, it could be more easy for me and more enjoyable for you if you took your shirt off."

John looked at his shirt and snorted because Sherlock was right. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, stumbling, revealing his muscled skin and making Sherlock swallow hard in his throat and coughing silently. He placed the shirt on the chair and layed down again. Sherlock went to the bathroom and took a bottle of massaging gel, the reason he had it in the first place is still a mystery, looked himself in the mirror and sighed.

This was it. This was the time he could lay hands on John with a reason for doing it. He could finally think, read him despite the fact that he was drunk, he tried to keep his mind clear. He noticed something changed in him. Something evolved in his feelings. Was it the booze? Was it the atmosphere? He couldn't figure it out yet and walked out to the living room. John had fallen asleep but that didn't stop Sherlock puting some gel and spread it on his back. He made round moves starting from the top of his back and slowly going down.His fingers were smooth and relaxing, going everywhere on his flatmates skin. He leaned closer to him and his hands trailed down and stopped above his jeans. John woke up and made a sound of cosiness, smiling and said.

"This is goood. This is really good."

Sherlock smiled and carried on putting some more of the gel on his hands. He placed his fingers again but this time, he massaged the back of his neck. He leaned closer, almost his face touching Johns head and whispered.

"Just relax....Let go of yourself...."

John opened his eyes and turned his head as much as he could to look at him. Sherlock didn't move back and their noses were touching. It was the point of no return and both knew it, but they didn't give two shits about it. They let loose their feelings and went with what was going on. John turned on his back, making Sherlock shift and sit on Johns thighs without breaking eye contact. He opened his mouth to speak but Sherlock grabbed the back of his head and licked Johns mouth. John gasped but didn't pull away, he placed his hands on each of Sherlocks  
thighs, bit his lip and crashed their lips together. They moaned to the feeling and the flavor of their tongues mixed together and John grabbed his thighs even harder making the fabric of Sherlocks pants even tighter and brushed his raising erection making him moan. Without pulling away, they switched places and John was on top now, unbuttoning Sherlocks shirt while he was licking and biting his neck. Sherlock started breathing heavily and John now was unbuttoning his pants placing his hand inside Sherlocks boxers and licking his chest and belly. Fully  
erected now, Sherlock was thinking that this was the best thing he ever did in his life, and will never regret it. John was jerking off his flatmate, well something more than flatmate now, and took Sherlock in his mouth making him moan louder than before, grabbing Johns hair with one hand and grabbing the arm of the sofa with the other. John was so good at this that made Sherlock say

"John...Fuck! John i'm gonna come."

"Don't hesitate."

With the friskyness of Johns voice Sherlock couldn't hold it anymore and ejaculated in his mouth, and John licked his erection clean. He started licking his way up to Sherlocks mouth where he stopped, kissed pasionately and John said while he was licking Sherlocks ear.

"Did you like it?"

"God yes...But we're not done here. I need to take care of you..."

Both smiled and Sherlock undid Johns pants and while kissing him, he started working on his erection. John moaned in his lovers mouth and said.

"If you keep doing this, i'm gonna be in trouble..."

"Don't worry..."

Sherlock took off his pants and so did John. He laid down on his back and John spread his legs while kissing him. He took the gel bottle, squirted some in his hand and worked his way inside Sherlock. When he hit his prostate, his lover groaned loudly and John took his hand out and entered him gifting Sherlock with his moan, working with his second now erection. He started going faster, balls deep, kissing him and biting his lip.

"This is so good!"

"Yes! Yes! God!"

Sherlocks nails were trailing Johns back, leaving faint red marks behind and he realised he was gonna come soon so he pulled off, placed Sherlock on four and reentered him, still playing with him. This time it was more acking for release because the tension was too much. Sherlock was holding on and John was moving fast again and again rhythmically.

"Sherlock!Fuck! i'm gonna-"

"Me too! Don't stop John! -shit-i'm coming!"

Sherlock shouted Johns name, came in his hand following by John who came loudly and both collapsed on the sofa with John laying on Sherlocks back.

After a while Sherlock made room for John and laid there, caressing his face and rubbing his chest. John took him in his arms, lifted the blanket that was above them on the arm of the sofa and covered themselves up. There was complete silence and the only sound was the wood burning in the fireplace and the breaths they were exhaling.

Sherlock looked at John who was now asleep next to him and smiled. He finally got it. He found out what was it that made John stay with him all along.

  
'It was love...' He thought and hugged him tighter till the next morning.

**Author's Note:**

> That was it for now, but more will come.I'm sure i write a lot when i have a glass or two..make it 4.....yeah....Soooo...Kudos.i love Kudos! :3


End file.
